Gazing in a Mirror
by Adania
Summary: I had wealth, power, and most of all- beauty. And yet none of this could buy me love, that which I most longed for. Helen's POV. From her early childhood up through the movie Troy. Corresponds with my other fics, AN INVICIBLE HAVEN and FROM THEBE TO TROY
1. My Sister's Question

NOTES: This is a story based on Helen's life, from her point of view. It's first person (meaning it's as if she is actually telling it) and it will take place during her life, pretty much the entire thing. For the first few chapters I'll be skipping through a bunch of years. Meaning in once chapter she might be seven and the next she might be twelve. I want to take this right up through the movie Troy, which would pretty much be all the scenes she's in from her POV. Now, I know every person has their opinion on what Helen was really like. Historians have different views also. Some say she was malicious and manipulative, others say she was an unwilling participant, and still others say she just got caught up in events. Her existence isn't even fact, it's more legend. I'm basing my story just as if she was an actual person with her actions being pretty much what a normal person would do. So if you hate Helen, this isn't your type of fic. If you adore Helen, this also isn't your fic. If you're a cross between the two, then I think you'll enjoy it. I won't say more because I don't want to give the plot away, but I've known women like her (the Helen I portray) and this is a perfectly realistic possibility.

IMPORTANT: If you read the previous paragraph, you'll know that I'm going to do some of the scenes Helen was in during the movie Troy. If anyone has a script, that would be great. I'm not going to do the scenes otherwise, because it's just this pet peeve of mine to get the dialogue right. So if anyone knows where I can get one, or has one themselves, just let me know in a review and I'll get in contact with you. It'll be a BIG help, so thanks ahead of time.

Rating: It's PG-13, as are all my fics. So if any of you are hoping that I'll write exactly _what_ went on with her and Paris, you're going to be disappointed. It'll be exactly what the movie showed, nothing more.

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            If people were to ask me what it's like being the most beautiful woman in the world, I wouldn't know how to answer them. And they have asked, many times. So many times that I cannot even name them all. But I remember the first time…

            I was seven and my sister Clytemnestra was preparing my hair. She was ten years older than I was, and we were preparing to meet the arrival of Agamemnon. I did not understand what was happening, for no one had thought to inform me. I must have been wiggling, for she chastised me as she carefully curled my hair with the heating iron.

            "It's too hot for a heating iron," I complained.

            She sighed and put the offending object down, opting instead to just pin my hair with two combs. Her handmaidens had spent hours on her own hair, curling it and pinning it into place.

            "Amazing, Helen," she murmured softly, smiling at me in the mirror. "You waste no thought on your appearance and yet you outshine us all."

            I was young and naïve, and I studied her admiringly. "You look beautiful, Clytemnestra. I like when you curl your hair."

            "I like it as well," she said, studying herself. "But there's no comparing the two of us." She looked at me and there was a pause. "What is it like, Helen?"

            "What is what like?" I asked, confused.

            "Being you. Possessing beauty so great that people look upon you and think they are viewing Aphrodite herself. Wasting no thought to appearance or apparel and yet still striking men speechless. And all this when you are still just a child, not even a woman." There was a faraway look in her eyes, as though she wasn't even paying attention to me.

            I squirmed uncomfortably. "No mortal outshines the gods," I said firmly, not wishing to offend them.

            She noticed my discomfort and quickly shook her head, warding off whatever thoughts had occupied her mind. "I'm just being silly, Helen, pay me no mind."

            "Why did you curl your hair today?" I asked, crawling into her lap.

            She wrapped her arms around me. "You're almost too big for me to do this, Helen. And I curled my hair because soon we are to go meet Agamemnon."

            "Who is he?"

            "He is a great king who comes to make me his bride," she replied.

            "Is he nice?"

            "I've never met him, so I wouldn't know," she had answered me. That was a lie, she knew his reputation, but in her kindness she wished to protect my innocence as a child.

            "Then why do you wish to marry him?"

            There was a pause. "Helen, I never said I wished to marry him," she answered softly.

            "Then why must you?"

            She shook her head. "Because Sparta needs the alliance. King Agamemnon is a powerful man, our marriage will mean Sparta shall remain safe from all enemies."

            "Will you be happy?" I asked, as I leaned against her.

            She did not answer for a moment and I glanced up to see her eyes shining with tears. "Clytemnestra?"

            She quickly stood up and roughly set me on the floor. "You're too old to be held, Helen. I expect you to join me within the next few minutes." And with that, she quickly left the room, shutting the door firmly.

            I stood there, bewildered. Her sudden mood change had confused me and I couldn't figure out why she was so upset. I turned and glanced into the mirror where she'd fixed my hair.

            I saw a regular girl staring back at me.

            She had long, blonde hair that waved slightly down her back. Two blue eyes set evenly above a slightly upturned nose. A mouth was below that, and her eyes caught mine in the mirror.

            I did not know what Clytemnestra was talking about; I had the same features that every other person had. But something was different about me, though I couldn't figure out what. I looked the same as everyone and yet I was treated differently. I would come into a room and the conversation would quickly cease. When I went into the sun a servant was always there to hold a shade over my face. I was not allowed to play with the other children of the palace and I had never ridden a horse.

            But I had the same features as everyone else. 


	2. My Beauty's Danger

Thank you so much **Tima** and **Bristol.** That link really helped me out, I'd been doing tons of searches for it but nothing ever came up. Glad you're enjoying the story, it's a lot of fun to write. Enjoy, everyone!

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            Clytemnestra was married to Agamemnon, an old man that I didn't like at all. He had a cruel smile and yellow teeth, but she didn't seem to be bothered by that. Or at least, she didn't let me see that she was bothered. The bridal gifts were great and Sparta benefited from Agamemnon's generosity. It was at the wedding that I first met Menalaus, who was to be my husband- though of course I didn't know it at the time. Neither of the brothers were given much attention by me, and they reacted as was normal when they first saw me. It did not faze me, for by now I was used to it. But I kept thinking about the words Clytemnestra had said to me as she fixed my hair. For the first time in my life I realized that all the glances and whispering was because of my beauty.

            Clytemnestra was taken away and I soon adjusted to her absence. She had always been a sort of mother to me. My own mother had died soon after I was born and my father never regarded me. He never sat me on his lap or told me I was his princess. He was simply… there. My maids all revered me but none ever befriended me. Clytemnestra had been the one who'd loved me, the one who made me feel special.

            Ever since she spoke those words to me- when I was seven- I realized that my beauty made me different. I was never allowed to run or play in the sun. Whenever I went outside it was with an army of servants, with a veil pulled down to shield my face. I never rode a horse or practiced races like the other girls. I stayed inside, weaving and playing with my dolls. By the way I was treated, I knew that my beauty had a power to it, but it wasn't until I was twelve that I realized how truly dangerous it could be…

            The men were all out hunting and only a few guards had been left behind. I was inside, as usual, pacing around my room. It was the hottest part of the afternoon and I was bored. One of my handmaids was preparing a bath for me and the water looked cool and inviting. There was a stillness about the city that showed many others were inside avoiding the heat as well.

            A sudden clamor near the gate of the citadel caused me and my maids to look up. Shouting was heard and the sound of swords clashing together. Then, there was silence for a moment, though it was soon broken by the sounds of screams. I jumped up and threw open the doors, only to be greeted by a servant frantically running into the room.

            "It's Theseus, from Athens!" she screeched, slamming the doors and bolting them behind her. "He's come while there is no one to protect us!" Polydora, my handmaiden who was five years older than me, quickly grabbed me by my arms. She threw me in the corner and hissed at me to be silent. Quickly throwing a bunch of blankets over me, she ordered the other maids to drag the bath basin over in front of me. This having been done she quickly calmed everyone, ordering them to continue their weaving.

            The air was stifling under the blankets and I was sure I was going to pass out. The room was tense, though the handmaidens tried to act calm, and the silence was unnerving.

            A sudden bang on the door sounded, and we all jumped. I quickly became still again but I flinched as I heard the screams of the other women when the doors were slammed open.

            "Good evening, ladies," said a slightly sarcastic voice. "I have come to inquire as to where I might find the great beauty Helen."

            My heart pounded so loudly I could hear it in my ears and I was certain that Theseus could hear it as well. I was not frightened for my maids, for I knew that Theseus had a dangerous but kind reputation. But when he announced that he was searching for me, I felt my throat constrict and it became hard to breathe.

            "She is not here, at the moment," Polydora replied smoothly. "She is with the men."

            "A lie, though a quick one," Theseus' answered dryly. "Men, search the room."

            "You doubt the word of a woman, my lord?" Polydora said haughtily, trying to hide the fear she was feeling.

            "I do," he answered back calmly. "For I've never known a bath to be left alone in a corner. In my experience one usually only draws baths for bathing, since it does require a fair amount of effort."

            I felt a hand grab the blankets off my head and I screeched as the same hand caught my hair. I quickly stood up, glaring at the offending soldier.

            "Well, well," Theseus said, observing me. "I doubted correctly. It is a pleasure to meet you, fair Helen."

            "Kindly tell your man to release me this moment," I said coldly, turning my glare upon him. "I am in considerable discomfort."

            Theseus inclined his head. "You heard her," he said easily and I sighed as my hair was released. "Can't have your lovely locks ruined, of course. It would bring the ransom price down."

            I did not speak; I only glared at him. He looked back at me, amused, and finally spoke.

            "We'll take you-" he pointed to Polydora, "-as well. Can't have Helen's chastity ruined. Now, ladies, if you'll follow me…" Without glancing back at us, he strode down the hall. Polydora and I exchanged glances. It was quite obvious we had no choice. We reluctantly followed, his soldiers bringing up the rear. As we left, I quickly grabbed a few items. My flute, a necklace Clytemnestra had given me, and a small statue of Artemis. I would pray to her to protect me. Polydora had the sense to grab a few necessary items, such as lights cloaks to shield us from the sun and a few changes of clothing. Armed with these items we followed Theseus through the familiar hallways, now so empty of people.

            Polydora made me don my light cloak for the trek down to the harbor, where their ship was waiting. There was no struggle- Theseus had twenty soldiers with him and I could see more guarding the ship. The people of Sparta came to watch me leave and I ducked my head at their piercing stares.

            "Hold your head high, Helen," Theseus told me softly, walking beside me. "You've no need to be ashamed."

            "You are kidnapping me for my beauty, yes?"

            "Yes."

            "Then my beauty is going to grieve my father when he finds out I'm gone. It will tax the people of Sparta who will have to pay the ransom. I've ever reason to feel ashamed."

            Theseus cast an appraising glance at me. "You cannot help it, though," he pointed out. "You only ever need feel ashamed at things you have control over."

            I knew at that moment that I would never forget those words for as long as I lived.


	3. A Small Taste of Paradise

Thank you all for your reviews, and yes I have read Inside the Walls of Troy. I am basing Theseus's personality on that, I read that book when I was younger and I really enjoyed it. There are different accounts of how the kidnapping went- some say Theseus raped her and that Iphigenia was really their child but to save face Helen introduced her as Clytemnestra's daughter- but I always preferred this version. And considering Theseus' history and stories of his past, I think that her portrayal of him was extremely probable. There were a few things I disagreed with, like I got the impression that she was portraying Cassandra as an olden-day feminist and her portrayal of Andromache was completely off, but I did enjoy the book. I think she could have done a better job w/ Helen's character, however. But anyways, glad you're enjoying it.

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            The voyage was long but enjoyable. I'd never been outside Sparta before, so I was wide-eyed with wonder. Polydora made sure I wore my veil every time I was out in the sun, but I did so happily. Theseus treated me kindly and paid attention to me, something few people had ever done before. His soldiers were kind but aloof, as was proper. They treated me as a guest and made me feel very welcome.

All to soon the journey was over and we'd arrived in Athens. I quickly settled into a routine there and I soon almost forgot my life in Sparta. For the next six months Athens was my home. I was free to roam at will- being blissfully unaware of the general rules regarding captives- and Theseus gave me free reign. Polydora was a constant companion so as to make sure my chastity was not touched. She, too, enjoyed the customs in Athens. For the first time in my life, I walked the streets unguarded except for Theseus and Polydora. Of course, I still had my veil to protect my skin, but it made no difference. I saw what a market was like and I visited the stables. I watched ladies haggle over prices and fishermen bringing in their catch.

I was sure paradise must be like this.

Theseus never mentioned my beauty and never forced me to do things I didn't wish. He did not make me have a care for dirt or stains. I was not constantly reminded that my beauty was a treasure and should be treated as such, like I was at home. I was living in a dream, but a short dream that soon ended.

Soon after six months had passed, my father sent envoys from Sparta with the ransom. It was paid and Theseus released me into the soldiers' care. However, he insisted on accompanying me to the dock, where the ship was waiting to take me to Sparta.

"I hope you've not missed home to much," he said as he guided the chariot through the streets.

"I feel more at home here than I do back in Sparta," I said honestly, casting a glance at him through my veil.

"That's because I've treated you as you should be treated," he replied. "People always feel at home when they're treated kindly."

"Why did you?"

"Why did I what?"

"Treat me so kindly."

"Because you are a miracle, Helen. Your beauty is unsurpassed-" It was the first time he'd ever mentioned my beauty. "- and your nature is a kind one. The combination is not normal."

"Then why doesn't my father treat me as such?" I asked. By now Theseus knew everything about my family. My father's disregard for me, and my sister's love which I hadn't experienced in years. He knew of it all.

"Because he is a fool, Helen," he said softly. "A fool who sees you only as a means for personal gain."

"But I can contract an excellent alliance," I recited innocently. "Sparta will be enriched through my marriage."

"You should've been allowed to be a girl, Helen," was his only reply. "You've been brought up a woman, which was a mistake."

"Why was it a mistake?" I asked, curious. I wasn't sure I understood him fully.

"Because girls need to be allowed to be girls," he replied. "Girls should not be made to be women."

We had arrived at the docks and he handed me down, bidding farewell with just a few simple words. But it was the parting words which stayed in my mind for the voyage to Sparta, and for many years afterwards.

_I had been allowed to be a girl, hadn't I? _


	4. Returning to Sparta

Thank you all for your reviews and help. I found the Troy script, though it's a little off, and your quotes, **Firien**, helped bunches. Thank you all so much!

Ok, this story isn't exactly correct to the real story of Helen. Because of the way they portrayed her in the movie, I had to change a few things. So this isn't completely accurate. But anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

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            My return to Sparta was not marked by any great celebration. My father smiled at me and told me he was happy I was safe, then turned to Polydora and promptly quizzed her to make sure my honor had no been touched. When he was positive I was still a maiden, he sent the both of us off to rest.

            I suppose that if I had to give a time where I grew up, it would be during the following years. My father grew disinterested in ruling Sparta anymore, but he had no sons. He therefore called for Agamemnon's aid, who promptly sent his younger brother to take control of the city. I was taken to a small fortress nearby, my maidens and I, where I spent the next few years of my life in relative seclusion. That is where I truly grew up, I would say.

            Father and his wife- a woman who was not my mother- stayed in their quarters. I was given free reign of the fortress, though at all times behind the walls. Few knew of my existence there, but I liked being unknown. All my life I'd been easily recognized, here I could veil myself and the soldiers- if they didn't see my face- knew not of my identity. It was here that I learned to become a lady. I learned to control servants, oversee the kitchens, and prepare for guests.

            If I had to pick a time where I was truly happiest, it would be in that small fortress. It was in the middle of a great forest, so plant life was abundant. The garden was overgrown with roses and flowers, and I would spend hours alone there. I had no playmate, but it made no difference. I'd never had a playmate my entire life, so I didn't know that I was missing out. My handmaidens kept me company, but they were never playmates.

            Shortly after my sixteenth birthday, my father sent for me. It was here that he dispassionately informed me that I would be marrying Menelaus. The alliance was a good one, in all respects, and it would keep our family in the ruling house of Sparta. I suppose it should not have surprised me, but it did. He informed me that Agamemnon and Clytemnestra were coming for the celebration, but that he and his wife would not attend. It made no difference to me, but I looked forward to seeing my sister. I had no seen her in nine years.

            She arrived a few weeks later, ready to escort me back to Sparta. It was wonderful to see her again, but as much as I wished to deny it, she'd changed. Her eyes no longer held that youthful sparkle, though the kindness was still there. Her beauty was still great and her looks young, but her eyes showed that she'd seen much. But she smiled and kissed me, and told me I looked more beautiful than ever.

            The next day we set off to return to Sparta. My maids accompanied me, along with an entourage of servants carrying the bridal gifts and my own personal items. Clytemnestra and I followed the soldiers on horseback, who led the way.

            "Have you seen him?" I asked her.

            "Menelaus? Of course, he has visited Agamemnon often."

            "Tell me what he's like."

            "He is strong and brave, an excellent fighter," she began, but I shook my head.

            "No, I wish to know of the man I'm marrying."

            She did not answer and I caught her gaze. "Clytemnestra, what is it like to be married?"

            She shook her head. "Ah, Helen, you've grown older since I last saw you."

            I smiled. "I've no illusions, if that's what you refer to. I've seen enough in my lifetime to know."

            "Well, then, I will tell you of him. He's over twenty years older than you, and his hair is beginning to gray. He is no match for you in looks."

            "That is nothing new," I said softly. I was not bragging, but I'd heard it my whole life and I knew it to be true.

            She laughed softly. "I suppose it isn't." Then her eyes grew serious and she looked at me. "Helen, I only wish to spare you pain in telling you this," she began.

            "I know," I answered.

            "He is frivolous and selfish, and he cares nothing for others. In many respects he is like his brother."

            I smiled sadly. "I'm sorry."

            "Do not pity me, I never entertained illusions of marriage. One glimpse of my husband cured me of any I might have had. But no matter, back to Menelaus. He will treat you fairly as long as you do not cross him. Do not defy him, for if you do no one will be able to protect you. Do not question him or argue with him. Brook anything he says with silence, no matter his words."

            I should have felt dismayed at the picture she was setting before me, but I knew it to be true. Somehow, I'd always known it. Even as a girl I never imagined marriage to be a blissful state of love, though most children do. I had just never entertained such fancies.

            "Helen, that is the kind of man your husband is. Now, as advice from a wife of many years, do not quarrel with others over his lusts."

            "What do you mean?"

            "You are to be his wife, therefore he will come in contact with your handmaidens."

            I cast a glance back at all of them, pure, untouched maidens. She saw my glance and nodded. "That is what I mean. Not one of my women has escaped my husband's caresses. And I want to warn you- they are the only friends you have in this world. Helen, he will not love you."

            "I know," I answered quietly. "Do not fear; I do not need him to love me."

            She shook her head. "You deserve it, though. I'm sorry I did not love you more."

            "Clytemnestra, you are the only person who ever _has _loved me. You've nothing to regret."

            "Oh, but I do. I should have loved you more, but I knew I would have to leave you one day. I hoped that if you weren't very close to me, that you would stay innocent."

            "Am I not innocent?" I asked, smiling.

            "Not so much as others think. You are too old for your age, Helen. You were made to be. And you shouldn't have been made to be, everyone deserves a childhood."

            "It can't be helped now."

            "Poor Helen," she said softly. "The most beautiful woman in the world, and yet the most unloved."

            "We are a pitiful bunch," I said, smiling at her. "Two beautiful sisters marrying two ugly brothers. We deserved better."

            She nodded in agreement. "The gods blessed us in some ways and cursed us in others."

            "I would gladly trade my beauty for happiness, though. Women envy me, but they shouldn't. Never mind though, tell me something. Are you happy?"

            "At times," she answered. "And I offer you a bit of hope. Bare children. Bare many children. For they will be your salvation."

            "How so?"

            "They will love you," she replied. "They are innocent and pure, and their faces will light up when you stretch out your arms to them."

            I smiled, picturing the babies I'd seen. It was easy to believe her words. She reached over and squeezed my hand, comforting me.

"I'm glad you're attending my wedding," I said, smiling at her gratefully.

            "It's my honor, Helen," she answered softly. "You deserve much more than that, but that is all I am able to give you."

            Sparta came into view and we were silent the rest of the trip. It looked the same as it did on the day I left it, just a few years ago. But it felt different, and I knew it was. A stranger now ruled it, a man I'd never met. But I would meet him far too soon for my liking.


	5. The First of Many Meetings

Sorry this took so long to get up, I was on vacation and then I had a lot of catching up to do when I came back. Had to write another chapter for my other story as well. Anyways, this is short, but after this I'm really going to start updating. The ideas are all bouncing around, and they'd be coming out soon, so enjoy!

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            I can still remember the first time I met my husband as though it were yesterday. In reality, it was many years ago, but the memory is as vivid as ever.

            Clytemnestra and I arrived and were escorted to our chambers. To my surprise, she was in the women's area of the palace. This was my first real lesson of marriage, the couple didn't sleep in the same room, or even the same area. Of course, I well knew the reason, but the thought had never really occurred to me before.

            After freshening up, I was brought down to meet my future husband. He was there, along with Agamemnon, and Clytemnestra took her seat beside him.

            "Helen," Menelaus respectfully stood up as I entered, peering through the light veil that covered my face. As a maiden, it was proper for me to cover my face in the presence of men. Clytemnestra only wore a veil over her head, for she was married. It dawned on me then that soon I would gaze at the world with no fabric across my face to hinder me.

            That thought wasn't as pleasing as I'd thought it would be.

            "Menelaus," I greeted him, sinking down to my seat between him and Agamemnon. I remember being aware of a feeling of being trapped, not having Clytemnestra to turn to for conversation.

            "Well, Menelaus, is she as beautiful as they say?" a nearby advisor asked, his eyes roving my face. They spoke of me as if I wasn't there, but it made no difference. I rather liked being forgotten. After all, I'd been used to it all my life.

            "The gods have blessed me," Menelaus replied, toasting them with his cup of wine. "Not many men are gifted with a wife of such beauty."

            "Ah, but all women lose their beauty," Agamemnon replied coolly. I inwardly bristled, but outwardly my face showed no emotion. Clytemnestra acted as though she hadn't even heard the comment, turning instead to a nearby servant. "That's why the gods have made so many," he continued.

            The men all laughed and drank to that, while I tried to keep my cheeks from burning. The rest of the evening is a blur, I can only remember being engaged in conversation to Agamemnon- for a short while- and then with Menelaus before excusing myself.

            That was my first meeting and my last until our wedding day, which came just a short seven days later.


	6. My Wedding Day

            I awoke seven days later calmer than I would've expected. I suppose you could say I was resigned to it. Dawn was just beginning to creep over the distant waters when I made my way down to the temple of Artemis to complete the customary rituals, a guard in my wake. I wore my customary veil, since I was still a maiden. As I finished and made my way back to the city, I passed the temple of Aphrodite. Many women choose to burn sacrifices to her, in prayer for a loving and passionate relationship.

            I continued on my way without stopping.

Looking back, I suppose that might have been my fatal mistake. Perhaps she took offense, but I just couldn't bring myself to appease her. Clytemnestra had prayed to her, and I'd seen how her marriage was going. I suppose Aphrodite had taken offense with our family, though for what I don't know. The gods are difficult to reason.

Clytemnestra was there, waiting for me when I returned. A young girl brought in the water and I took my purification bath. None of us spoke, I didn't feel much for talking. I was dried off and dressed in the finest white linen and sat in front of the mirror for my hair dressing.

Clytemnestra took her leave as Polydora prepared my hair. I could see her fingers shaking slightly as she twisted my hair into coils and braids. It occurred to me then that this day marked not only a change for me, but for her and my other handmaidens as well. She finished and stood there, silently waiting for me to dismiss her.

"You may go," I finally said, not turning around as she exited. I was gazing at myself in the mirror. My hair had been twisted in an elegant knot of tiny braids and coils. It crowned my head and framed my face, setting off my cheekbones. I stared at the mirror into my eyes, blue as the Aegean that lapped at our cliffs. My lips were well-formed and pink, and my nose left nothing to be desired.

It was at this point that a great feeling of sadness washed over me. Many women had told me that their happiest day was their wedding day, when they looked into the mirror and felt beautiful, whether they were or not. Though it makes no sense, I'd never felt any pleasure at my appearance, and I'd been silently hoping that today would be the day, the day I finally felt inwardly that my beauty was really beautiful.

But no feeling came.

It was odd, as though I was dispassionately observing a stranger I happened to pass by chance. I was staring into a countenance so beautiful that men would gasp when they saw it. And yet I felt no satisfaction, or even that the face belonged to me. It showed a gracefulness which I was far from feeling. It showed a calmness that I'd never felt. It showed everything that should have granted it love, and yet I'd never known it and I never would. I was just sixteen, still a maiden, but I'd known from my earliest childhood that there was a difference between a look of love- and a look of lust. The latter had been mine many times; the former I still longed to experience.

Resignation came then, for I knew I'd never find it. Menelaus had looked at me the same as any other man had. A look of longing, not of tenderness had shown in his eyes the few times we'd met during the week.

Clytemnestra came in then, interrupting my thoughts. I smiled at her in the mirror and she smiled back, her gaze softening. "You are truly lovely, Helen."

"I wish it wasn't so." My face was unadorned with makeup- for that would come after I was married- and nothing covered my face.

"Life is a mystery, isn't it? Women long to be beautiful, when they don't realize that beauty is nothing when compared to love."

"A pity that we seem to be the only ones to realize it."

She sat down beside me and I turned to face her. "You should have a mother to do this job, but that option is not available to us, so I'll do it instead. I've already offered you words of advice on pleasing your husband, now I'll offer you words for living." She locked eyes with me and I held her gaze- the soft, loving gaze of a sister more like the mother I'd never known. "Helen, I know that you've seen much in your short years. You've seen the power your beauty has over men, and yet I wonder if you truly realize the danger of it. It is your choice, use your beauty for others or for your own good. I promise you, though, the former will keep you happy. Find any way you can to keep yourself happy, you'll need every moment you possibly can. You'll learn the art of manipulation and seduction, in order to get your husband to grant your requests. Use it freely, but always be sure of the prize you're trying to attain. Nothing is more despicable than a wicked woman. And finally, do not go looking for things you cannot attain. It will be better for you if you don't."

And with these final words she draped the veil over my head and led me to the door of my chamber. I had no time to think upon her words then, for Menelaus came to claim me as his bride. The feast was magnificent, no expense had been spared, and I could see all my former suitors there as well. They bore no grudge, as they'd had to swear an oath to uphold the man who'd be chosen as my husband, and Menelaus had been chosen. I suppose if they'd thought about it, they'd realize that they'd never had a chance of attaining me, but my beauty has stupefied men before. The entertainment kept me from thinking of Clytemnestra's words and as I was unveiled and led to the bridal chamber, I still did not think of them.

I don't remember much of that evening, only of a raw feeling of fear gripping at my stomach. It was at this moment that I realized the strength and power of my husband, and my weakness and vulnerability at his side. He could snap me in two the moment he set his mind to it. But he didn't. As he gazed on me, I could feel my face heating up and I turned my face away from his, wishing the night to be over. He approached me then, gently tracing the outline of my jaw and letting his hand travel downwards. It was then that the familiar feeling of numbness came over me. It is at this point that the events start to grow hazy, but there is one moment that still clearly remains with me to this day.

I glanced briefly at his face, and I saw his eyes were not looking at my face but at my body. There was no tenderness in them, only lust- though harnessed. He was not rough me with in any way, but I knew then that even my beauty would not be enough to captivate him. I was just an object to him, and the look in his eyes solidified that knowledge.

That is the only moment I can remember, until later on that night as I lay under the cool covering of the sheets. Menelaus was lying on his stomach, facing away from me, with his arm protectively draped over my shoulders. I was on my back, trying to not move for fear of awaking him. I needed this time alone. It is then that I thought back to Clytemnestra's words that morning, which seemed like a lifetime ago.

_"Do not go looking for things you cannot attain."_

As I glanced over at my husband, a resigned feeling came over me. It was at that moment that I gave up any hope for love, for I knew it would never be mine. I would never experience the soft gaze of love, only the jealous gaze of lust. I would never have a mouth tenderly and gently placed against mine in a quick goodbye kiss. I would never look into a man's eyes and see his melt with tenderness as he looked upon me. I would never enter the room and see his face alight with smiles, just because I was now near him.

Beauty had a price. And what an expensive one it was.


	7. Memories of Immorality

Thank you all for your reviews, glad you're enjoying the story. I'm having a blast writing it. However, to those of you who want Paris to come soon, sorry but it's not going to happen. I want to very clearly outline her life before Paris, give her a lot of depth, so to speak. Besides that, I'm going to have this fic correspond with my Hector/Andromache fics, and I need to have certain parts written in that fic (the one that deals with the events of Troy) before I can put them in this one. SO, won't be happening for awhile, just to give you a heads up. But her character will have a lot of depth by that point, if that's any consolation. On another note, I strongly suggest reading my H/A fics, especially the one I'm currently working on (An Invincible Haven). It's not necessary, but because I'm writing them at the same time there are some small compare/contrast things in there, mainly about the way their marriage is. Nothing major, but I just wondered if anyone would be able to pick them out. A hint: they're small little things, nothing big or important. Anyways, enjoy!

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            I only vaguely remembered the palace from when I'd lived there before, and my new room was in a section I'd rarely been in. Menelaus gave me a room just off the feast room, up a narrow set of stairs. Later I found out it was because he didn't want anyone "accidentally" finding their way in there. I had no grand bedroom, no grand view. The flight of stairs resembled servants quarters, which I suppose was exactly what he wanted. But I didn't mind. I did not want any grand rooms or peering eyes. I was content to be alone, for often he would forget about me. My room was simple, a desk, bed, and fire pit were all that adorned it. Polydora said its plainness was a stark contrast to its occupant, but I liked it that way. Menelaus would never disturb me there, whenever he wanted me he would send for me or come get me himself. His bedroom was very grand, with fine tapestries and a balcony with an excellent view. I thought it very ugly.

My memories of my first year of marriage are very few. Or even any memories of my marriage at all. You see, good memories have a way of replacing bad memories, so now few remain. There are some, however, that will most likely remain with me until the day I die.

            I remember the loss of innocence for each of my handmaidens. I had twelve in all, all of them were given to me when I came to Sparta except Polydora. She was a small spark of familiarity in a strange, new world. I confided in her and we shared a history together that I did not have with the other handmaidens. She'd been with me ever since I could remember and we would laugh about our girlhood together. The Spartan girls caught my husband's eye first. They were trained in dancing and would perform for company whenever he wished it. Polydora quickly learned the routine- it was made clear that she was no different from any of my other handmaidens- and was easily the best dancer of them all. Oddly enough, she was the last of my handmaidens to lose her innocence to my husband. I hated all the other girls, they were jealous and petty and would always fight amongst themselves. They were probably jealous of their position with my husband, since he'd often discard one of them for another. He would keep one of them for a week or two, then move on to another. Polydora's turn came just a few months after we were married.

            It was after a feast- Polydora had led the dancers out as usual, though I'd left the feast by that time- and for the first time my husband saw her. It had been our tradition to gossip about the different guests at night after the different parties but she did not return that night. She was the only handmaiden I allowed in my room. The others I made keep to their own rooms, but Polydora was allowed to come and keep me company. I finally went to bed, knowing exactly where she was.

            The following morning she came in to dress me and fix my hair, and she was quiet and sober.

            "I know where you were," I said softly, watching her finally raise her eyes to meet mine.

            She spoke no answer, but I did not respect her to.

            "If you can believe me, it makes no difference. The more nights he is with you the less I have to put up with him."

            "My lady," she began, but I cut her off.

            "I never expected his fidelity nor did I care for it. I only pity you, for what you now have to put up with. Do not think I am angry, for I truly am not."

            She looked at me curiously. "I have seen many jealous wives, I felt sure you would be the same."

            I smiled sadly. "A woman can only be jealous of her husband's mistresses if her heart has been engaged. Mine never was."

            She only nodded and withdrew, sensing my desire to be alone. I knew she would not repel his advances, though it would make little difference. My husband would take what he wanted. But to be the mistress of the king was a desired position. Polydora, who'd known only a servant's wages, was suddenly elevated. Robes and jewelry were hers for the first time in her life. Others looked on her with respect, at least in the servant's world. Years proved her to be his favorite, he called for her more than any other woman… including myself. But it did not matter.

            My heart was not engaged.


	8. Witnessing Heaven

Thanks for your reviews, and to answer **Monia's** (hope I spelled that right) question, I will be keeping most of the dialogue in the movie. My idea for this fic is that it corresponds with her in the movie, so it's as believable that it can be. However, I do get to write their entire week together, since the scene that we have of them is on their very last night together. So hopefully that'll be good. And I do finally have the script, thank you to everyone who helped me out with that one. And I will be adding a few lines to their scenes, which some of you will recognize if you read the original script. Most of those scenes will be in my fics (this one and the one I'll be writing about H/A during the movie Troy.)  However, that won't be happening for awhile yet. I want to have this fiction and the one about H/A corresponding together, and I can only do that if I write them at the same time. So I'm finishing my H/A fic pretty quickly while this one I'm taking my time on, so it shouldn't be too much longer. Probably not before the end of August, though. And as always, thoughts are in italics. Anyways, here's the next chapter, enjoy!

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            One of my most vivid memories is when I first entertained company as Queen of Sparta. It was six months after my marriage and Menelaus wanted to form a treaty with a nearby village. It was a farming village, where the occupants lived peacefully with each other. All of them were farmers, and all of them aided one another. The village produced the largest supply of wheat in all Greece, and Menelaus wanted to bargain with them for it. We could have easily conquered the village, but that would destroy the crops and cause the occupants to be resentful, thereby not producing as much. So instead, Menelaus sent a message requesting them to send a representative.

            They sent two. 

            It made no difference to Menelaus if a man chose to bring his wife, she was no trouble to house. But her coming changed me for the rest of my life.

            She was dark, not at all pretty. Her lips were too small and her nose slightly crooked. Her skin was tough and leathery, proof of the many hours she'd spent under the sun. But she had something that I longed for, that which I desired from the deepest depths of my heart.

            Her husband loved her.

            It was obvious from the moment they stepped off the small carriage that had transported them. Her clothes were simple and her jewelry none, but he gazed at her as if she was the very image of a goddess. I felt a surge of jealousy rise up in me. Not of her, but of what she had.

            But my duties as hostess were clear and I welcomed them with a smile. He paid compliments to my beauty and addressed my husband; she smiled humbly at me. Her attitude left nothing to be desired, she was sweetness from the soles of her feet to the top of her hair.

            The negotiations were short and they stayed only one night. During dinner, I customarily rose from my place just before my handmaidens would come in to entertain, and she followed suit. I led her into one of the gardens, ordering a servant to procure us two glasses of wine.

            "Please, my lady, why did we leave?" she asked, confused.

            I looked surprised. She was older than I, and I would've supposed well familiar with the ways of the world. "The women always retire from the feasts early."

            "For what purpose?"

            I was suddenly aware of a very acute feeling of discomfort. The dancers had never bothered me before; they were a normal tradition in any wealthy household and the women were quite familiar of their doings. This woman, who was older than me by at least a few years, was now relying on me to describe exactly what her husband was watching.

            I couldn't do it.

            "It is customary for the men to dismiss their wives so the company is all male. This way they have their time, and we have ours." I felt no guilt for my lie, but I quickly changed the subject. "You are just married?"

            She shook her head. "We have been married six years. I am four and twenty."

            I tried to smile. How could a woman of that age be unaware of her husbands actions? It was unheard of, especially after six years of marriage. "I had thought you to be just married, you look of newlyweds."

            She smiled. "We've often been told that. But I speak truth, I was married when I was but eighteen."

            This conversation was very quickly discomforting me and I could think of nothing else to say so I retired for the night as soon as was possible. The next day, we escorted them down to their raggedy horse and their pathetic wagon, which would transport them home.

            "Thank you," she whispered to me. "For trying to spare me. There was no need, though, my husband has never had a wandering eye. But your kindness touched me." She was referring to the dancers.

            I was overcome at that moment. Not with jealousy, no, but with an intense longing from the deepest pits of my soul. It was at that moment that I truly witnessed love for the first moment in my life.To still be passionately in love, even after six years of marriage. To know that one's husband had shared his bed with no other than his companion for life. To be distinguished because you had been privileged to something that no other person had. To be loved tenderly and gently, and to be gazed upon with reverence and joy that did not grow any dimmer as the years flew by.

            My heart truly broke at that moment.

            That night, Menelaus sent for me. I was well familiar with the routine and I paid no attention to the pitying look of Polydora. A servant girl escorted me through the halls- for I was not allowed to go anywhere alone- and left me in my husband's room.

            He was drunk, most likely from celebrating his new agreement that would bring riches to Sparta.

            "Not bad, Helen, eh?" His eyes glittered but his speech was clear. He was not so drunk that I could outwit him this time.

            "A wise decision," I replied dispassionately. I never called him my husband, though why I don't know.

            "You seem out of humor," he complained, setting down his glass and approaching me.

            He expected a response. _I have just witnessed a loving marriage and compared it to ours. What have I to be miserable about?_ "I am just tired."

            He narrowed his eyes. "Why are you tired?"

            Deep, deep inside me, a spark of dry humor flashed. _What if I were to tell him I was keeping a lover? He'd most likely kill me,_ I thought listlessly. "I haven't been sleeping well."

            "Why not?" He was within arm's length of me now and his voice glinted dangerously. It was time to manipulate, just like Clytemnestra had told me.

            "I'm afraid."

            "Afraid of what?" His voice was a little gentler, and he traced the outline of my jaw. I resisted the urge to slap him away.

            "Strangers. My door has no lock and you give me no guards, I am left unprotected in the darkness of the night." He gave me no guards because he did not want to risk their looking upon me.

            He seemed pleased with my suggestion. "Well, I shall alleviate your discomfort. I'll have a lock put in tomorrow." He toyed with a strand of my hair. "Are you pleased now?"

            I sighed, there was no getting out of it. "Pleased, but still tired."

            "Is there anything I can do to cure your sleepiness?" He was annoyed again and slightly drunk. I was treading on dangerous ground.

            "Allow me to return to my quarters, I shall sleep better there. I will send one of my handmaidens over in my stead."

            He frowned, genuine anger showing on his face. "But they cannot bear me heirs to my throne."

            _Marry them instead and they can._ "There is time yet, we've been married but six months."

            His hand lightly gripped my throat under my jaw. It left no mark but I could feel the strength in his hands. His message was clear. "Enough talk." His lips found mine, but the kiss was not tender. It was jealous and possessive as they traced their way down my throat. His one arm held me firmly against him as his other undid the clasps on my dress. I turned my head away from him, keeping my face away from his. He seemingly did not notice. As my dress dropped to the ground, I could see a mirror off to the side. I looked at myself, ignoring the figure of my husband pressed up against me.

            There I was, beautiful and pale. The farmer's wife couldn't hold a candle up to me, and yet she possessed something I did not. Anger rose in me then, at the unfairness of it all. And once again, I was struck at how the beauty did not match the person within. It was almost as if it belonged to another person. The person in the mirror showed an ethereal beauty, the kind a husband would gaze on adoringly. The person in real life knew no such beauty.

            My thoughts were ended then as he firmly guided me towards his bed, his rough outfit scratching my fair skin. I closed my eyes, wishing for it to end, and after a time it did. I waited for him to fall asleep so I could get up to leave. He'd no doubt be furious, but I did not care that moment. My heart was dead within me.

            I waited until his breathing was even and he lay still, then I gently rolled over and stood up. Turning to grab my robe, a voice stopped me in my tracks.

            "Where are you going." It was a statement, not a question.

            "I was returning to my room, I thought you'd sleep better that way." It was a lie and we both knew it.

            "Come here," he ordered, patting the bed beside him. His eyes greedily roamed over my body and I hurried to lay beside him, covering myself with the sheet. I turned my back to him but he scooted closer and wrapped his arms around me. "There," he said contentedly, closing his eyes. "Go to sleep."

            I dare not move or try to leave again, for he'd surely awake at my movements. His arms around me prevented my leaving without his noticing, and it was then that my gaze was attracted to the same mirror.

            There was a girl inside it, her fair body barely covered by the sheets. Thick, hairy arms were wrapped around her, a stark contrast to her soft skin. Her hair was like the golden wheat that waved in the breeze and her eyes- even in the darkness- sparkled brilliantly. Her figure was bathed in moonlight and if someone were to see her, they'd think they were beholding a goddess.

            It was at that moment that I started to cry. It was silent, for I had no wish to awaken my husband, but the tears fell down my face and onto the pillow. The girl in the mirror was perfect, the girl on the outside was not. I longed to be the one in the mirror, the one without emotions or feelings. I remembered the couple I'd said goodbye to just that morning, their lack of wealth and beauty outshone by the love in their eyes for each other. I tried to remember Clytemnestra's words, to not long for something I could never have, but it was hopeless. My heart ached then, truly ached, because I had witnessed it firsthand. I sobbed my heart out, because I wanted that love with all my heart. I could hear the waves crashing in the distance and I longed to throw myself into their dark, murky depths.

            _Oh, Aphrodite, grant me love or strike me down._

            But there was no answer, only the sound of the waves in the distance and my husband's breathing beside me.

            I was alone and unloved.


	9. A Drop of Freedom

Thank you all for your reviews, I'm glad you're liking this story. Just as an update, I'm hoping to have Paris come into the story around chapter fifteen, but not before. Might be a LITTLE bit after that, but sometime around then. So hang in there, it'll get happier soon.

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Every year we would attend the Festival of the Gods. The celebration would last for seven days, though I only attended the first day. Menelaus didn't like me outside the palace and would limit my reasons to leave until very few remained. But my obligations as Queen mandated that I accompany Menelaus for the commencement.

I donned a white dress and a veil that both protected me from the harsh sun and the prying eyes of others. My face was still visible- for even though he was intensely jealous, Menelaus still enjoyed showing me off- though most of it was cast into shadow by the veil. Since I was married I no longer had to cover my face, but since I kept my head lowered most of the time the effect was the same. Very few were able to clearly see my features, but every so often I'd look up and gaze into the people's faces.

The men gazed on me in a lustful awe, the women in amazed adoration. I could see wonder in their eyes and knew what they were thinking. _If only I were that beautiful. _

I would lower my face then, allowing my veil to cast me into shadow. _Do not long to be me. One does not envy a whore, who is used and unloved, so make not the mistake of envying me._

Menelaus and I would spend a few hours at the celebration and then he would take me back to the palace before returning to the party himself. Those were my favorite times, for the palace was nearly empty of servants and it was rare that I would see anyone.

I'd take advantage of my freedom- small though it was- and wander the palace. I liked the walls, most of all. No guards patrolled them- for they were all at the celebration and only two remained at the gate- and I was free to travel there unaccompanied.

It was a treasure as rich as it was rare. It is impossible to truly describe my feelings at those moments, because no one can imagine the relief of just one drop of water to a person trapped in a vast desert. No one could see me, for I was at the top of the highest watch tower, and I would dispose of my veil. Those were the only times I would see the world through my own eyes and feel the sun shining down on my head, warming me through. I never felt truly warm, not in the palace. It was always cold inside- perhaps because of the stone walls- but up there it was like paradise. The palace was situated on a cliff, with the city being further inland, and I could look straight down and see the waves crashing against the rock, hundreds of feet below.

That sight always cheered me, the knowledge that I could both end my misery and deprive Menelaus of his "perfect" wife. But something always stopped me. I would gaze down at the deep, blue sea and it always looked so peaceful. In some, unexplainable way, it soothed me. The blue waves would turn white with foam as they violently flung themselves against the rocks, but it would still looked peaceful. I would turn to gaze at the sun setting into the water and dream of the faraway lands across that sea. Many consider the sea a barrier, a dangerous wall not to be crossed unless one is forced, but I didn't mind it. Everything else around me was a wall. The stones of the palace entrapped me, the commands of Menelaus forbade me, the people in Sparta watched me. I'd learned to live with walls- there was not a moment in my life that I didn't have any- but the sea was the first wall that ever looked beautiful. Perhaps I was the only one who could appreciate a beautiful wall.

That was the only place that I loved in all Sparta. I'd close my eyes and entertain thoughts of sailing into the horizon, running barefoot through the woods, or flying with the birds. I was a little girl again, not a grown woman, and my heart rejoiced in the carefree person I became.

I could release my hair and feel the wind teasing back the strands. I could kick off my sandals and let my feet caress the cool, smooth stones under me. I could look out and see nothing but water, dazzling in the sunlight.

I could pretend that I was free.

That place was my gateway to dreams, one that I was permitted to visit once a year for a brief, sweet moment. That moment would pass in the blink of an eye but I desperately clung to every second of it.

For one carefree, priceless moment, I could pretend that I was loved. With the sea sparkling in front of me and the sun kissing my face, I could not only pretend, but- for just a moment- actually believe it.

But it would end, as did everything that was good. I would slip on my sandals and cover my head, and quietly return to the palace. No one knew of my escapade, and no one ever found out. I carried no happiness on my face and no extra sparkle in my eye. But the joy I felt at that moment, I would lock deep away in my heart, where no one could see it but myself. I would feed on it hungrily, diving down into that hidden lagoon where I was special. I'd go there when I'd lose my desire to live. And that moment would sustain me, though just barely, until the next year when I'd replenish my soul all over again.

Because those moments of love- though imagined- were the only moments I had.


	10. Nightmares and Results

Thank you all for your reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying this story, here's the next chapter!

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Menelaus would often go to war with his elder brother, who'd call upon Sparta's excellent armies to join him in his campaigns. I hated Menelaus, but I hated Agamemnon even more. Perhaps it was because- to a certain degree- I could control Menelaus. Agamemnon could be controlled by no one; his greed consumed all other emotions.

Whenever Menelaus would leave I would have that sweet taste of freedom. It would last for a few weeks or even- if I was lucky- a whole two months. That was the longest he ever stayed away from me. But no matter the amount of time, I lived for every second of it. I would awake from my trance-like state and actually enjoy life. Polydora once said that that was the only time she ever saw me smile.

But his return was always the same. After forcing himself on me he would describe his "valor" in battle, all the goriest details of it. I had no desire to hear it, but it made no difference to him. The more that knew of his feats the better, for he received no glory when compared to his brother.

It secretly bothered him, though he never spoke it. I had ample opportunity to observe the two of them together, and while Menelaus accepted the fact that he'd never outshine Agamemnon, he still regretted it every so often. But his love for fighting and slaughter would bring him back again and again and again.

I remember one of his returns very clearly. It took place in the fourth year of our marriage, and they'd just won a great victory over another Greek city. Menelaus had thrown a celebration in honor of his valor. It had taken a full week to prepare, but when it took place a full nine days after his return, it was magnificent.

The officials dined at the palace that night, and the hall was vibrant with shouts of encouragement and jesting. I attended, sitting a little ways behind Menelaus, off to the side. I was the only woman there, for it is not our custom for husbands to invite their wives out. Women stay in the home, silent and hardworking, making sure the household runs smoothly. Since I was hostess, however, society demanded that I be present, though I'd had no hand in this feast dedicated to slaughter.

When the men were done feasting I started to leave the room, as usual, for Polydora would soon lead the women out to dance. Menelaus stopped me, his eyes bright with the wine.

"Helen, stay with me," he slurred, his eyes unfocused.

"I would be better if I were not here," I said, softly but firmly. Most of the other men were drunk, but the few that weren't were looking at us embarrassed. It was expected for Menelaus to have entertainment, they would not fault him for that, but it went against the strict codes to flaunt them in your wife's face.

"None of them can compare to you," he said laughing. Turning to the other men he said loudly, "Not the best of them, mind you, but no other can outshine this body." His hand snaked around my waist but I had had enough. Everyone's eyes were on me, some embarrassed and some lustful, and I could feel tears stinging my eyes. My face was red and I forcefully pushed Menelaus away and stood up quickly, well out of reach before his befuddled brain could think to recapture me. I strode off quickly, away from the feast area and my room. I went instead to the gardens where I hoped Menelaus would not find me.

The gods were not with me that night, for a few minutes later he strode out angrily.

"You are unaccompanied," he spat out. Fire blazed in his eyes.

"My handmaidens are all being used for other purposes," I snapped back, not caring for his anger. "I have no one to accompany me."

In two short strides he was upon me, yanking me up by my shoulders and raising his hand.

The hard slap that followed left me dazed for a moment, but his voice quickly called me back to my surroundings. "You humiliated me."

"You have our roles reversed; I was the one who was humiliated," I spat back.

"When you refused my wishes, in front of everyone?!" he roared.

"When you flaunted your affairs in my face and talk about me as though I was your slave girl!" I screamed back. "Much as I hate it, I am your _wife_ and you will treat me as such. One of the privileges of carrying the title of queen permits me to not be humiliated in front of your officials! If you wish to discuss a woman, then make it one of your many mistresses but you _shall not_ treat me that way."

He put his face close to mine, his hand behind my head hindering all efforts to pull away. "I shall treat you any way I please and you will submit," he said maliciously. His voice was dangerously low. "I have never treated you as a slave girl, but since you operate under such assumptions I'll prove you wrong. _This_ is how I would treat a slave girl." His hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me with him. I recognized where we were going- I had traveled that hated path too many times- but always as his wife, never as a slave girl.

For the first time in my life, I was truly afraid.

He threw me into his room and spun around, quickly locking the door. I took advantage of my moment of freedom to grab at any weapon I could find. There was nothing in reach.

He turned back around and stood there a moment. That moment seemed to last both a second and a lifetime, all in the same moment. I could see the drunkenness on his face, the fierce rage that was released due to the excess of wine, the strength of his body. I stood there, stone still, as a rabbit looks when caught in a snake's deadly gaze.

Then the snake moved in for the kill.

A stinging pain erupted on the side of my face, and I realized he'd struck me again. The impact sent me flying onto the bed and I tried to leap to my feet. He was on me in a moment, his hands pinning my flailing ones with such ease as I'd never seen. He kissed me, hard and forcefully and I tried to pull away but to no avail. I was soundly trapped with no way of moving. But still I struggled. His rough hands ripped off my fine robes and tore at me with such a lust I'd never experienced. The pain was excruciating and I cried out for help. "Who is there to come?" he mockingly asked.

It seemed like a lifetime before he finally stopped, climbing to his feet and putting on his clothes again. I didn't move, I _couldn't_ move. He spoke no words to me but strode to the door an unlocked it. Just before he left he spoke.

"_That_ is how I treat a slave girl," he said, and laughed. The door clicked behind him and I slowly sat up.

I was covered in blood.

The sheets around me were covered as well and I slowly started to cry. It was a pitiful, longing cry and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop my shivering. I longed for a mother at that moment, or even my sister. But such wishes were for a child, I was an adult and I knew no one would come for me. I was alone.

I bit my lip to stop my tears and I slowly climbed from the bed, feeling the pain shoot through my body at that small movement. I put on my dress and slowly made my way back to my room, walking stiffly. There was an alternate staircase, so I had no need to pass through the hall again, for which I was grateful.

Once in my room I methodically dressed my wound and put on a clean dress, tossing the other into the fire pit. I lay down to sleep, trying to put my experience behind me.

Time passed, and neither I or Menelaus ever spoke of it. He contented himself with other girls and did not call for me for a few weeks. But by that time, I had realized something and confirmed it.

I was with child.


	11. A Mistake and a Lesson

Thank you all for your reviews, hope you like the next chapter!

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The following nine months were the happiest of my time with Menelaus. He was pleased that I was carrying his heir, so he left me alone and contented himself with others. My stomach swelled and my back ached, but nothing could take away the joy I felt. I knew at that moment that my life would get better, for Clytemnestra had promised that children make living worthwhile.

I was smiling more often, and singing to myself when I thought no one could hear. Polydora came in one time to hear me seeing a lullaby, and she smiled.

"I have been in your service for my whole life," she began. "And this is the first time I've ever seen you smile."

I looked down at my bulging stomach and sighed softly. "This baby will love me," I said simply. "It will love me for who I am, not for what I look like, and I'll give it my heart in return."

"You've already given it your heart," Polydora answered softly, leaving me alone in my thoughts.

"I suppose I have," I said to no one, and continued my lullaby.

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The labor was difficult, though it never robbed me of my joy. I spent a long, sleepless night in pain, but it was only when the midwife shook her head that I began to get worried. But she patted my hand and went to get a few more rags.

A few hours later, she told me I was ready to deliver. In all my life I've never experienced such agonizing pain, and yet it didn't really hurt. There is pain that can be felt by the mind and pain that can be felt by the heart. This pain was only physical, and it was vastly overcome by my heart's joy, knowing that in awhile I'd hear the screaming cry of my baby.

I pushed and strained for hours, each time collapsing from weariness. I'd never been so tired in my life, as though I'd never be able to move again. Sweat rolled off me in buckets and I could see the midwife calling for more rags. Each time they brought new ones, old ones were taken away, covered in blood.

"What's wrong?" I managed to gasp out.

The midwife shook her head. "Everything's fine, my queen. You must keep trying."

I knew she was lying and I would have struck her, had I the energy. As it was, I collapsed on the pillow, biting my lip against the pain. I struggled all through the day and for most of the night, but with no results. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, after a particularly strenuous struggle, the midwife cried out, "I can see his head! Try, my queen, try! It won't be long now."

This gave me the encouragement I needed. I threw my entire body into the effort as though my life depended on it. I was nearly unconscious from the pain and the weariness, but I struggled on. Finally, I felt my body relax as the baby slid from me. I gasped, relieved that it was over, but I quickly felt panic surge through me.

No cry had greeted my ears; instead there was only frantic activity. "Elevate her legs," I heard the midwife say, and I felt my lower half being risen from the bed. "We must stop the bleeding."

"Am I dying?" I asked softly, my head reeling from dizziness.

"Bring me more rags!" were the only words that spoke.

It was nearly a quarter of an hour later before the midwife finally relaxed. "She's out of danger."

The dizziness had passed and I was able to gather my thoughts. "Where is my baby?" I demanded.

No one spoke.

"Answer me now or I'll have each an every one of you stripped and beaten until death," I threatened, an edge of panic in my voice.

"My queen-" began an assistant.

"Give my baby to me _now_." My voice held a dangerous edge to it and no one dared to disobey.

A maidservant walked over, holding a bundle wrapped in clean rags. There was no sound coming from the burden in her arms, nor was there movement. She handed the bundle to me and I took it from her, cradling the child against my chest and reaching to uncover its face with my free hand.

The face was pale, with none of the usual rosy color of a newborn's face. "No," I whispered, tears trickling down my cheeks.

"I'm sorry, my queen, your daughter was stillborn," the maid said quietly, backing away to give me a moment. She herded the other women out and quietly shut the door behind them, leaving me alone in my grief.

"Oh gods, no," I moaned, clutching the baby against my chest. My heart was broken and there was no stopping the torrent of tears that flooded down my cheeks. I hated myself for not delivering a healthy child, but most of all I hated myself for allowing my heart to hope. I had buried my heart behind a wall, never allowing it to feel or hope, until now. This is how I managed to keep it from pain, until I'd foolishly thrown caution to the wind and opened the doors to love. And now, it was broken, all because I'd hoped for something that I had _known _I'd never have. My life had been without love, what had made me think I'd find it now? The gods cursed me, and I had dared to hold out hope against them.

"Oh, my sweet, precious child," I murmured, tenderly touching her cheek. It was so soft, and yet so cold. She was beautiful, even in death. Her tiny, perfect hands were clutched into fists. Her head was bare, save for a few tuffs of pale, yellow hair, and her face looked so peaceful. "You are so beautiful," I whispered, my tears dripping off my face and onto the rags that covered her. "So much more than I ever was."

She'd been gifted with my ethereal beauty, but hers was untarnished and pure, everything the mirror told me I was. But I wasn't looking at a figure in the mirror. She held that mysterious glow, the one that showed she was as beautiful inside as she was outside. Her face showed that peace that I longed for.

"My angel, you are perfect," I tenderly told her, my heart longing to be able to look into her eyes. "And I have loved you your whole, short life."

She did not answer, as I knew she wouldn't. Her mouth did not smile nor did her eyes open to gaze at me in innocent love. Her hands did not grab at my robe, or her lips open to be fed. She was still and quiet, and I wanted to die.

That was my penalty, for allowing hope to creep back into my heart. For a few, short months, I had allowed myself to love and be happy, hoping that I'd finally be given what others take for granted. That's the penalty for loving, because if you don't then you don't feel, and so are not susceptible to hurt or pain.

I cast one last, loving glance at her face, kissed the lips that would never open in a smile, and retreated behind my walls. They surrounded my heart, high and impenetrable, opening only when I allowed them. And I would never allow them to again, the possibility- no, the assuredness- of hurt was too great.

I felt no emotion when my handmaidens came to take my child away, nor when my husband visited me in my room. "They tell me you were almost taken by death," he began gruffly. Oh, how I longed to die. I wanted to tell him that the gods would never allow death to take me; that would be too kind of them. It would grant me too much happiness. But I didn't speak, nor did I give any appearance of having heard him. "Don't worry, Helen, you'll bear other children. And they tell me that this one was a girl, so it is best to have lost this one than a son, eh?" He patted my hand and left.

His words should have infuriated me, but I felt no emotion. He tried in his rough, cruel way to comfort me, but there was no need. I did not need comfort, for I did not feel.

I had made a mistake in allowing my heart to feel, and I vowed never to do so again.


	12. Questions of My Reflection

**SectorLutter**, I also read Euripedes "Trojan Women" play. I was crying by the end, especially with Andromache and Astyanax. And yes, most of the old poets (Euripedes, Virgil, etc.) have her portrayed as an evil, malicious woman. Homer's work always fascinated me because his portrayal of her could go either way, depending on your point of view. Personally, I always held Helen being a woman like I portray her as in my story, for a few reasons. First off, all the people who wrote about her were men, so they obviously didn't see things from a woman's point of view, and back then it was considered disgraceful for a woman to leave her husband. It was also considered disgraceful for a woman to have an affair, though the husband could have many mistresses. Don't get me wrong, I disapprove of all those things, but I think it's an equal responsibility, both the husband and the wife should stay faithful to each other. And second, it's because for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why Helen would leave her husband and risk death if she was a "malicious, designing" woman. Considering she had to seduce Menelaus in order to survive, it just doesn't seem like it would make sense for her to run off with a man she didn't even care about. And I know that people say Paris was really good-looking, but the Iliad describes Menelaus as being "fair of appearance" also, so it wouldn't make sense that she'd run off with him for that reason.

If Helen was willing to risk death, shame, and ridicule, then there must have been something that deeply attracted her to Paris. And modern day studies show us that couples usually separate or have affairs because an emotional need isn't being met. Considering that (according to ancient stories) Menelaus was having an affair at the time that Helen ran off with Paris, I think it's pretty obvious that she really was seeking something that he couldn't give her. So that's why I'm portraying her the way I am. Anyways, I've rambled on too long, here's the next chapter. This one is a bit philosophical, from Helen's point of view as usual. There's a bit of dialogue between her and Menelaus, so anyways, enjoy!

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The gods never gave me another child, but since I'd stopped hoping for one, it didn't make a difference anyway. To be honest, I didn't want a child. Because I had refused to open my heart to love, I didn't want to be forced to give it. Perhaps a child would have been my salvation, but since I never had one I'll never know.

As time went on, Menelaus grew angry that I had not provided him with an heir. We were dining together for the first time in many months, and he was frowning across the table at me.

"I need a son," he growled, glaring at me. "Why do you not give me one?"

_And I need love and respect,_ I wanted to say to him. "The gods have closed my womb."

"It's been two years since you were with child," he rebuked me. "Obviously you are capable."

I felt a small triumph at spiting him, though it was indirectly. I could not choose whether or not to have a child, as far as I knew. "If it pleases you, I shall go pray to Demeter," I offered dully, not caring what his reply would be.

This offer satisfied him. "So be it, but take your handmaidens with you," he commanded.

So after dinner I ordered Polydora and a few others to veil themselves and accompany me. My heart felt like a rock inside of me, an object that was just _there_. However, when the gates of the citadel were opened and I walked onto the crowded street, I could feel it lifting.

My eyes opened in wonder at the people around me. I had never been outside the citadel except for festivals, and so I had never observed people going about their everyday business. My veil kept my face protected from the sun, but because I was married I need not have a layer over my face. In all the years of my life, I'd never roamed a busy street nor joined the people in their activities.

Because of the bustle, no one noticed me and I was allowed to dodge through the streets without stares. Demeter's palace was a fair ways distant, but I was in no hurry. Polydora stood at my side and the others followed in my train, happy to finally be permitted out of the palace.

They were handmaidens, so they were allowed out to do the shopping and odd chores that were required of them, but not often. Menelaus was intensely jealous of each of them, since most of them still visited him frequently. So it was an enjoyable outing for all of us.

Over a half hour later, we finally reached Demeter's temple, which was set on a small rise that allowed it to overlook Sparta. I could see the citadel in the distance, towering up out of the cliffs. My handmaidens waited outside while I went in to pray for a son.

I couldn't do it.

As I knelt before the statue of the goddess of fertility, I couldn't bear to bring up any request. I just gazed up at her, the cold, hard stone of her face staring back at me. Her eyes held no life in them. No spark of anger, no flicker of love, nothing. She was cold and distant, exactly the way I felt.

My eyes hardened, and I rose to my feet without uttering a word. A priestess stood nearby, waiting patiently. "Would you like to make a sacrifice?" she asked me.

I shook my head. "No," I said shortly. "There's no need."

I didn't wait to hear her reply and I took the long way home, walking slowly. It was over an hour later that I finally returned to the palace, but thankfully I didn't run into Menelaus. I sent away my handmaidens and walked out onto my balcony, my veil still on my head to cover my skin from the harsh sun.

I sat there for the rest of the afternoon, lost in my thoughts. Polydora came at dinnertime, announcing that Menelaus had requested my presence again. I made myself presentable- not that it required any particular effort- and made my way to the dining area in his quarters.

"Well?" he asked me when he saw me.

I looked at him, my eyes dull and lifeless. I felt repulsed and disgusted as I gazed on this man twice my age, but not for that reason. The face that stared back was hardened, and it showed no warmth in it. I felt curious then, wondering what his childhood had been like that had given him such a face. No person is born with a face like that, rather it is acquired through a lifetime. I wondered what had given him that look. But his question still needed to be answered. I shrugged. "I received no answer from the goddess."

He frowned and I sunk down into my seat. "Menelaus?"

He looked up, his eyebrows raised.

I hesitated, not quite sure how to word my question. "Did you ever love?"

He snorted. "Love is for fools, for those who are weak."

I felt sad for him, then, for those were the words I'd heard his brother speak on more than one occasion. It had never occurred to me how Agamemnon's influence on him might have shaped him. "Not even your family?"

He glanced at me, irritated. "Helen, what is it you wish to know?"

"Why do you enjoy fighting?" I asked him boldly.

"All men enjoy it."

"No they don't," I answered. "The shepherds tend their sheep, rejoicing when a new life is born, not taken. The merchants sell their items in the marketplace, wishing for live customers instead of dead ones. I'm told they buy more, and so the merchant makes more money."

He looked at me, a frown on his face. "Fine then. I enjoy fighting because I am in control, because I have the ability to take life or spare it."

"Did your brother teach you that?" I asked, growing angry at his stupidity. "Did he teach you not to appreciate beauty, or love, or kindness?"

"Those rise and fall like the cycle of the crops, Helen. Beauty will pass, love will grow cold, and kindness will come to an end. Control has always existed, and it always will." He stared at me, then spoke again. "And I do appreciate beauty, just as much as another."

I shook my head. "You do not appreciate beauty, because you don't understand it."

He laughed. "What's to understand, Helen? Beauty creates pleasure, just the same as taking life. They are no different."

I smiled pityingly. "You just verified my words, and I know for certain that you do not appreciate beauty."

He frowned then, growing angry at my brashness. "Are you finished?" he asked pointedly.

I stood from my chair. "Yes, and I bid you goodnight," I said coldly. I did not wait for a handmaiden to be summoned, but rather returned to my room alone. I sat at my desk, reaching for a small hand mirror that I had been given for my first anniversary. It was the only object in my room that would show my reflection.

I felt confused, not knowing why I'd brought up the subject of love and beauty with Menelaus. For what did I know of it? It was true, in a sense, that beauty was the same as taking life. Both offered the user control over the victim, only in a different sense. And who decides what defines beauty? If asked, Menelaus would affirm of my heavenly appearance, but he would not love me, only it. On the other hand, a man in love with a woman would say she is the image of Aphrodite herself. Both are opinions, what makes one truer than the other? And what was love? If it was just a feeling, then it was true that sometimes Menelaus truly did love me. But I know he did not, so therefore it couldn't be just a feeling. But if not a feeling, then what was it?

I shook my head, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. _You are asking questions that cannot be answer, Helen,_ I sternly told myself. But my image stared back at me, as peaceful and lovely as she had been all my life.

"Do you know the answer?" I asked her curiously. She only looked back at me, still keeping her secrets to herself. I frowned at her. "One day you'll reveal your secret to me," I told her. "Though it be in life or death, one day I'll find my answers."

She calmly gazed at me still, silent as ever.


	13. A Hittite Queen

Sorry for the long break, school has overtaken me and our computer broke. Anyways, this is the last chapter before Paris, comes (yay!) so here you are. Enjoy.

As the years of our marriage went by, Menelaus stopped pestering me for another child. Any tenderness he had ever shown me was lost, replaced by the cool façade of withdrawal. He still called for me, though not as often. I suppose I was just as distant as he was, and a distant wife does not make for a good lover. He took his pleasure in my handmaidens, mostly Polydora.

I rarely went out anymore, not even for festivals. I had grown tired of being stared at, and I'd finally made peace. For some reason, the gods would neither allow me joy nor death. I had fought them too many times; I would do so no longer. I could never win, they were too strong.

Polydora and I grew apart. We no longer shared conversations, especially after my daughter had passed away. As Menelaus grew apart from me the two of them grew closer, or as close as a slave girl can get to a king. He showered her with fancy jewels and fine apparel, but she in turn was forced to give herself to his companions. It was an endless cycle. She reveled in the pleasures of life; I had experienced them for too long, and I knew they held no joy. I watched as she went off with different soldiers and advisors every night, pitying her. It might bring temporary satisfaction, but it never satisfied in the end. The heart was still left longing to be loved, tenderly and sweetly. But what did I know of that; I had never experienced it.

It was just after the anniversary of our ninth year of marriage that Menelaus called for me, announcing that I would be playing hostess to a prince and his wife, the daughter of a foreign king. "She's a Hittite," he explained.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Is he?"

Menelaus shook his head. "He lives in the Northern region, but he's Greek. I'm not quite sure how he ended up picking a Hittite for a wife."

_Perhaps they fell in love,_ I thought but did not say. "Will there be a feast?"

He shook his head. "They're not prominent enough, there is no need."

I nodded and quickly finished eating, then left to begin the preparations. The rooms must be aired, the furnishings sewn again or replaced, and the servants to arrange.

Their stay was but another of the many visits that accompanied my role as queen. I can no longer remember all of them, and this one was no exception. However, one memory from their time with us still remains in my mind to this day. If I was to be asked of their names, I could not say. If I was to be interrogated as to their appearances, I could not answer. But one evening, their last in Sparta, I was entertaining the queen while the men kept company in the hall.

I took her up to the walls of our citadel to look at the view of the ocean. I had heard Hittites were fond of the ocean and it was no discomfort to indulge her in this area.

"It is beautiful," she murmured softly, gazing out onto the water. I nodded, not answering. This was one of the few times I was permitted onto the walls and I was not about to waste it in conversation.

"Do you come here often?" she had asked me.

"Not often enough," I answered vaguely.

"I have always loved the sea," she continued, apparently oblivious of my desire for silence. "It is the gateway to faraway lands, the bridge over a vast expanse that prohibits our seeing great treasures and beauty."

"Mmm," I murmured politely, not at all sure where she was going with this conversation.

"Do you like the sea?" she asked me.

"I suppose so," I answered shortly.

"You do not know?"

I sighed, this woman particularly grated on my nerves. "Sometimes I am favorable towards it."

"I should think you'd always be favorable towards it."

I glanced at her, my mouth set. "I am sure I do not know what you're talking about, highness."

"You do not know what you want, Helen."

_How dare she address me with such familiarity. _"And you are so certain of my desires?"

"I am," she answered.

"Then what are they?"

"What everyone wishes for. Contrary to popular opinion, you are mortal, Helen, not divine. Your needs and desires are the same as any other woman."

_I could have told you that. _"Observant of you."

She suddenly laughed. "Come, Helen, I'm your senior by at least ten years. We could have been sisters. Listen to my advice, for I've learned it from many years of toil. It is not a sin to long for love."

At this statement, I bristled. I knew it was true, but the fact that a strange woman was pointing this out to me offended my sense of propriety. "And you are an expert on love?"

She smiled but did not reply for the longest time, instead staring out at the sea. I glared at her but turned to watch the stars as they climbed higher in the sky, as the moonlight danced on the water.

When she spoke again, her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "Love the sea, Helen, for from it will come your salvation." She looked at me, her eyes bright. "As assuredly as I stand before you now, a gift from the gods will be carried to you."

I cannot describe the feeling that came over me at that moment. A chill ran up my spine and a flame of hope flickered in my heart for a moment before it was crushingly put out by my emotions. Our eyes locked and I stared into hers, but if my life depended on it I could not tell of their color. Her face was well lit in the night sky but its features have been lost in my memories. She silently slipped from the walls and returned to her quarters, and that was the last I saw of her. She and her husband departed early the next morning, before I had emerged from my chambers.

But the memory of standing on the walls with her remained with me. At that moment the oddest sensation had crept into my mind. I'd spent a week with her, but I could not remember anything about her. I visited that same spot the following night, trying to stifle the haunting image burning in my mind. It was at that moment that the suspicion first crept into my mind.

_By all that is sacred, I believe I just entertained a goddess._

Naturally, I had no proof and I spoke of it to no one. But unbeknownst to me, the proof was sailing towards me at that exact moment, the sea bridging the gap between us.


	14. Spring's Early Blossom

Notes: PARIS ARRIVES!!!! YAY!!!! Ok, sorry this has taken so long, updates will most likely be every few weeks now (ah, the blissful, so-not-busy days of summer.) And they'll be even longer since I'm updating Daughter of Troy at the same time as this one. Enjoy!

I can remember the day I first met Paris as though it was yesterday. Some memories never dim, never grow old, and this is one of them. As though branded into my mind, it never fades…

"Polydora, is everything prepared for the princes?" I asked her. She nodded.

"Their ship has been sighted, Menelaus just left."

"Do not serve the food until they have arrived at the palace, it will grow cold otherwise," I said, tiredly leaning back on my pillows. "And I do not wish to be disturbed."

She bowed and quietly left the room, and I was left to myself for the next hour. When the servant girl came with Menelaus' bidding, I did not bother to reply. I wordlessly rose from my bed and followed her to the private chamber where they were dining. I signaled to the guards to be silent and I quietly opened the door myself.

"You did not set a place for yourself," Menelaus said, turning his head to look at me. One of the princes had his back turned to me, the other was studying the far wall and did not hear me enter.

"I am not inclined to dine tonight, the preparations left me weary," I answered. At my voice, both the princes spun around, but I paid no attention to them.

"It is my desire that you dine with us tonight," Menelaus said, his eyes speaking words. I did not answer for the longest time, staring dully into the eyes of the man who was my husband.

I knew I'd not win this battle, nor did I care. I bowed my head mockingly and slipped into the room to make my introduction and sit through another long evening of men acting as though they were beasts.

"Princes Hector and Paris, I present my wife, Queen Helen," Menelaus said. I looked up and locked eyes with the man who was clearly Hector. Shock was registered in his eyes, but he was an honest man, that much was obvious. I smiled at him as he addressed me then turned to the younger prince.

My heart skipped a beat.

To this day, I cannot describe what I felt at that moment. It was the same feeling I had when I was with child, though different in a way. I could not speak, breathe, or even think as I stared into his eyes. They were brown, a deep, dark brown like the coat of a shining stallion. His eyes were probing into mine, and I felt as though he was staring into the depths of my soul.

But oddly enough, I didn't mind.

His voice shook me out of my thoughts and I smiled and nodded at him before taking my seat. I did not look at him for the entire meal, certain Menelaus would see and notice. A rational person would point out that I'd done nothing wrong, but my heart knew otherwise. My cheeks were flushed and I felt faint, as though the room had not been aired properly.

I was both relieved and crushed when the princes finally said goodnight.

When they left Menelaus turned to me and I forced my face to stay neutral. I was petrified of the words that would come out of his mouth, somehow knowing that he knew what I'd felt when I'd looked into Paris' eyes.

"They stay for seven days, then depart the following morning. Make sure the feast is ready by then," was all he said.

I breathed out a sigh of release. "It will be so," I said, standing up. "I bid you goodnight."

I had planned to return to the sanctuary of my own room, but instead I went into the gardens. There was a part that was forbidden, set aside for myself only. It was by far the most beautiful part of the gardens. I'd overseen its growth and imported exotic plants to create my haven. It was a small taste of paradise; a pure, lovely area surrounded by wickedness and greed.

I went over to the lily pool and scooped up a flower, resting it in my hands. The water was still warm from the heat of the day, but the lily had stayed fresh, floating in the water. I peered down at my reflection, wavering in the ripples. The moonlight was casting a glow about my head, and my reflection still held that same beauty that I did not possess. I quickly stood up, throwing the lily back into the pool. I hated my reflection.

"The lilies are not to your liking?" a mocking voice asked me, and I spun around.

"Prince Paris!" I gasped, quickly gathering my wits. "I am just not in the mood for flowers," I answered coolly.

"And what are you in the mood for?" he answered.

"I do not believe you are one of those I shall privilege with that information," I said, arching an eyebrow.

"Then who will get the privilege?" he asked, coming to sit by the edge of the pool and gently pulling my wrist so I joined him.

"None other than myself."

"Have you so few friends in whom to confide?"

"I have no friends, nor do I need them."

"Everyone needs a friend."

"Then you have many, I suppose?" I retorted. His probing questions should have made me angry, but they didn't.

"A few close friends."

"A friend is different than a lover," I pointed out, knowing very well that with his good looks and charm he must have many women fall in love with him. I myself was not immune to him, though I'd never admit it.

"And a wife is different than a slave," he answered gently. I was stunned into silence. _Is it that obvious?_

He stared at me for a few moments, then turned to scan the garden. "I must admit, I was not so impressed with your gardens when I first arrived, but now I'm finding them to grow more lovely the more a person explores them."

"You'll not find a more beautiful area, this is my private garden," I answered, gazing around the high walls framed by flowers and ivy.

"I am in a forbidden area?" he clarified.

"You are," I answered leisurely, both of us knowing I'd not make him leave.

His hand lightly brushed my cheek. "Good."

"Why?" I neither resented his touch nor welcomed it. Truth be told, it was awakening feelings in me that I'd not felt my whole life, but I quickly crushed them and locked them safely behind the stone walls of my heart. No good would come from loving.

"A forbidden thing is more beautiful just for that reason," he told me.

"But it is still forbidden, making it unattainable," I replied.

"Nothing is ever unattainable, simply farther out of reach than regular objects. And this forbidden garden is purer than others of its kind, simply because it is untouched."

"This garden is not untouched, nor pure." We both knew it was not the garden of which we spoke.

"There you are mistaken, Queen Helen," he said, standing up. "This garden is a pure and untarnished, simply because it has never been properly tended." He plucked a white flower from a nearby tree and handed it to me. "Its petals are beginning to wilt, because it has not received the nourishment it should have. A little bit of care and it would be spotless again. I bid you goodnight," he finished, bowing to me and quietly slipping out of the garden.

I remained there for hours, tenderly gazing at that flower which held so much meaning. Its silken petals stood out white against my soft hands. It was in the earliest stages of blooming, its petals hesitantly opening to welcome in the warm rays of the sun.

My walls were beginning to crumble.


	15. The Mirror's Smile

Sorry this has taken me so long to get up to you guys. School has swamped me and right now my schedule is so hectic that I can't promise you guys regular updates. But anyways, this chapter has been long in coming. Oh, and there's a reference to the goddess Aphrodite in here, kudos to you who spot it. Enjoy!

My heart betrayed me the very next night. Or I should say, it betrayed me for the first time, for many more would follow.

Prince Hector and Menelaus were in meetings nearly the entire day, and Menelaus informed me that it would be my job to entertain Prince Paris.

That day was the longest of my life and Paris knew it.

The day started innocent enough, though I knew it wouldn't remain so for long. I felt like a rabbit trapped in the deadly gaze of a cobra. I took Paris to the stables after breakfast while Menelaus and Hector took their respective advisors and began negotiations. I had never visited the stables before and so was at a loss as to what to show him. He only laughed at my discomfort and said that horses were his brother's pride, not his own.

He'd much rather tour our city, he told me. I didn't show it, but inwardly I leaped at the chance to leave the palace grounds. And since I was entertaining a royal guest, Menelaus could not object. However, just to be safe I took Polydora. She respectfully stayed a fair distance behind us to allow us privacy, or as much privacy as we could get walking the crowded streets of Sparta.

I had veiled myself to refrain from attracting too much attention and no one recognized Paris, so we were assumed to be just a wealthy couple.

"You do not like attention?" he asked me, noticing I kept my face hidden.

"Unwanted attention," I clarified.

"And what would you define as unwanted?" he asked carelessly, leading me into one of the public gardens that was slightly less crowded than the streets.

"Most attention I receive."

He jerked his head back towards Polydora, who was out of hearing range. "She is your handmaiden?"

"And my husband's mistress," I answered, knowing that it was no secret. "As well as a lover to all his honored guests."

"The men of Sparta are so generous with their mistresses?" he asked, slightly surprised. He never rebuked me as others would for speaking of such things.

"The men of Troy are not?"

"First off, they are kept separate from wives out of respect. And second, they are exclusive to one man, so our customs vary greatly from yours."

"Do many men have them?"

"Only those to whom their station forced them to marry. A man who chose his wife with no pressure from others is looked down upon for keeping one."

"Our customs do vary greatly, then" I answered.

"I believe I prefer ours to yours," he murmured.

"They are not mine."

" - And I believe that you would prefer ours as well."

I smiled but did not answer.

"A wise move," he acknowledged, noticing my silence.

There was a pause then I changed the subject. "You should be married."

"It is not so imperative that I marry. Hector is still in excellent health with a lusty heir so there is no need for me to continue the line."

"You've never met someone?"

"Not someone I'd consider spending the rest of my life with. And yourself?"

"I am married," I pointed out, slightly confused.

"Have you ever met someone that you'd consider spending the rest of your life with?" he clarified.

I paused, realizing that for answering that question truthfully I could be killed. But I felt no fear divulging that information to him. "No."

"It is obvious."

"Then why did you ask?"

"To see what you'd say."

"Did I pass the test?"

"You are mistaken, my fair queen, I never test you," he said softly, looking at me out of the corners of his eyes.

"Good," I murmured.

We walked in silence for a few moments until Paris looked up at the sun. "It is growing late, we should return."

"They will not be finished for a few more hours," I replied carelessly.

"I've no desire to anger your husband," he replied, gently turning me towards the citadel and leading me back.

I did not answer him, guiltily aware of the shivers his hand on my back had produced.

_Gods help me,_ I prayed, knowing very well the dangers I was heading into. _I won't be able to resist him._

"And what did you think of our city, Prince Paris?" Menelaus said heartily, glancing happily at me. The meetings were going well, and he was pleased that I had entertained Paris so successfully.

"I was pleased beyond expectations," Paris answered, his eyes carefully avoiding mine. "Never before have I seen such beauty."

I saw Hector glance at Paris out of the corner of his eye. Menelaus did not notice, as I knew he wouldn't.

"Did Helen show you our stables? We've some of the finest Oriental stallions here for breeding."

"She showed me, but I'm afraid their greatness was lost on me. My brother is the horseman, not I."

"Well then, Prince Hector, I shall show you them first thing after we dine."

"I look forward to it," Hector answered.

The next few hours were spent listening to Menelaus rehash some of his better hunts in intricate detail. My thoughts wandered as she listened to his droning, until a sudden touch startled me back into reality. Under the table, I felt something lightly brush my hand, flesh upon flesh. I knew without a doubt it was not my husband, even before I looked to see his hands flailing as an aide to the story. I glanced at Paris, who wasn't even paying attention to me. His eyes were fastened to Menelaus as though the tales were the greatest he'd ever heard. But it was his hand that lightly stroked my own.

I sat there, tense and unmoving. Fear gripped at me, knowing that my own husband sat not an arm's length away from me. It was his right hand toying with my left, and he gently traced the outline of each finger. Never before had anyone affectionately touched my hands and I knew I couldn't pull away even if I had wanted to. And I didn't. As he finally finished tracing all my fingers down to my pinky, he started back up my hand again. But he soon stopped.

Too late, I realized what he was doing.

As his hand gently traveled the length of mine, I felt his fingers gently clasp my own finger and then pull away, easily sliding my signet ring off my finger. My eyes widened, but I forced myself to stay calm. That ring had been given to me by Menelaus, and it signified my status as his wife and Queen of Sparta. The royal seal was engraved on it, along with my own personal seal entwined around it. There would be no mistaking it. Queens of Sparta had worn it for centuries.

And Paris had just taken it.

"Helen?" Menelaus boomed, making me jump. My eyes snapped towards him and I quickly calmed myself.

"My apologies, the firelight is hurting my eyes," I quickly lied.

"It is after dark, we were just discussing whether the stables would be worth visiting."

"If it is the stables you seek to tour, then no. But the stallions can be taken out into the torch lit paddocks and shown for Prince Hector," I answered smoothly.

"That settles it, then," Menelaus said, rising from his chair. The rest of us followed suit. "Helen, will you accompany us?"

"Thank you, no. I shall retire." I nodded to the princes' bows of respect and hurried to my room, careful to keep my left hand tucked closely into the folds of my dress. Never before had I felt so vulnerable.

I went to my room and ordered my handmaidens away, even Polydora. I felt sure that my burning cheeks were noticed by all of them, though I knew the dim light would hide my blush. I sat down at my desk and proceeded to unclasp my hair, curl by curl. It had been pinned up all day and I sighed with pleasure as I gently massaged my scalp.

I slipped out of my elaborate gown and donned a simple white dress, perfectly fine for casual occasions. I went out onto my balcony and leaned against the wall, observing the stillness of the court. It was late; most of the servants had retired for the night. I watched as Menelaus and Hector returned and parted ways. I watched the moon rise high into the sky and cast its glow about the citadel. It was a full moon; I remember it clearly because everything was bathed in silver light. I listened as my handmaidens went to sleep and as the palace grew quiet, then silently slipped from my room.

I had much to think about.

I silently treaded along the paths of the gardens, my bare feet making no sound. Slipping through a small, hidden gate I sighed as the peacefulness of my sanctuary overtook me. The lily pool gently rippled in the faint breeze, but I passed it without stopping. Ducking through a group of dense bushes I came to my favorite spot in my garden. I had designed and created this part myself, with no servants to assist. The grass was soft beneath my feet and the bushes and dark trees provided the perfect covering. The myrtle and cherry trees were in full bloom, some of their petals strewn out over the ground to create a blanket of colors.

I closed my eyes and stepped deeper into it, letting the bushes cover my existence. No one knew of this place, not even my servants. If Menelaus were to call for me no one would be able to find me, it was so well hidden. It was here, and here alone, where I was truly hidden from the world. No problems existed, no sense of time, no cruel intentions or evil thoughts. Here I was no longer Queen of Sparta, but merely Helen. Dressed in a white dress with my hair falling loosely, here was the one place where I was truly the innocent girl I'd never been. Pure and untouched, with no thoughts toward beauty or riches, just like the two doves nesting together in the tree.

"You never told me of this place."

"I told no one of this place," I answered softly, recognizing the voice. "You should not have followed me."

"A vision of beauty gliding down the halls. How could I let you escape?" he teased, drawing up close and reaching for my hand.

"No, Paris, not here," I said firmly.

"Why not? Do you know of a better place?"

My pleading eyes caught his and the teasing look was replaced by a sincere concern. "Helen, what's wrong?"

"Look at it," I said helplessly, gesturing around. "It is all I have."

Confused, his eyes scanned the secret grove. "The entire garden is yours," he protested, still not understanding my point.

"No, it is mine by my husband's wishes," I whispered, tears starting in my eyes. "It is not mine because it is not secret. By his bidding, a servant may enter. By his calling I am brought from it. Do you understand?"

His eyes softened. He finally understood, that I could see. "Helen, this grove is yours to do with as you wish," he pointed out softly.

"I wish it to remain pure," I said firmly.

"Why?" he asked softly, stepping closer to me.

"Because it's the only part of me that is," I answered.

"I once answered you on that account."

"You do not know me, Paris, you truly do not. I am Queen of Sparta and wife to Menelaus. I have been gazed upon by countless men and there is no part of me that has not been lusted over." Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I voiced what I had never known and longed for with all my heart.

He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my ring-less finger. "You are not Queen of Sparta tonight," he answered. "And you have never been lusted for by me, therefore you are not tainted in my eyes."

"You wish for proof, Paris?" I whispered harshly, stepping away from him. "You shall have me, because I am giving myself to you. But I promise you-" I yanked out a clasp from my left shoulder, "- you will lust for me." The other clasp was yanked out and my white dress dropped to the soft ground. I watched his eyes, holding my breath. I remember breaking out into a cold sweat and feeling slightly dizzy.

Paris' breath caught in his throat as he gazed at me. His eyes traveled down my body then back up. "Put your dress back on, Helen," he said softly, his eyes holding my gaze. "I would not have you like that."

It was at that moment that I realized whom the girl in my reflection was, the one whose beauty radiated inner calm and strength. Her mysterious smile had always held a riddle, and at that moment I figured out the answer. She was longed for, not lusted for, and her smile had always mocked me.

That night it finally did not.

I put my dress back on and fastened the clasps again. "You did not want me?"

"_You_ did not want me," he corrected gently, coming over to cradle my chin in his hands.

I smiled up at him, a comfortable, relaxed smile that radiated trust and love. "You are the first."

"I know," he replied, lightly tracing the outline of my lips. "But you did not want me to, and that's all that matters." His mouth was inches away from mine. "May I?" he whispered.

I smiled. "You may," I breathed.

And for the first time in my life I was kissed, hidden away in a secret grove alight with the silver glow of the moon.


	16. A Deadly Second of Weakness

Here's the next chapter, sorry to make you wait so long!

**…**

I knew it was wrong. I knew it endangered their city. I knew it endangered my life.

But I couldn't stop.

People curse me and mutter, "All she had to do was say no." It wasn't that simple. I tried. I tried with everything I had in me. I suppose years of being crushed under others' wills had left me with none of my own.

It was the night before their departing feast. I vowed I would hold fast. I swore I would resist. I promised I would end it.

I suppose my promises don't mean much anymore.

**…**

"You shouldn't be here," I said as I heard the door open quietly.

"Oh, shouldn't I?" he teased lightly with that sweet voice of his. My skin crawled with desire as I looked at him but I forced myself to remain in my place.

"It's not right."

"Your husband sleeps with a different woman each night and your conscience is offended by this?" he said, stepping closer. Oh how I longed to feel his arms around me.

"His actions do not dictate what is right for me to do. I am Queen of Sparta and I betray my city by giving myself to you."

He was standing right in front of me now, his face only inches from my own. "But then, since when have you cared for the opinions of others?"

I could not reply as his mouth firmly met mine. Nor did I want to.

**…**

"Princes of Troy," Menelaus began, rising out of his seat. "On our last night together, Queen Helen and I salute you."

I stared across the table at Paris, not even hearing my husband's words. He gazed back at me, the love in his eyes invisible to all but myself.

"We've had our conflicts before, it's true. We've fought many battles, Sparta and Troy, and fought well. But I've always respected your father. Priam is a good man, and a good king. I respected him as my adversary, I respect him now as my ally." Even when the men broke out into cheers I did not let my gaze waver.

"Hector, Paris, young princes, come, stand. Drink with me."

Hector rose first and nudged Paris who finally broke eye contact with me to respond to the invitation. I smiled and averted my eyes; I would distract him no more. Our dalliance was over; he would return in the morning.

"Let us drink to peace," Menelaus said, raising his glass.

"Peace," Hector agreed. "Between Troy and Sparta."

The treaty was official. Troy and Sparta were linked together, both openly and secretly. "May the gods keep the wolves in the hills and the women in our beds!" Menelaus cried. Normally his words would have stirred no feeling in me. Tonight they drew scorn. _I found it, oh beloved husband, _I thought mockingly. _You could not keep it from me._

It was time for me to leave. I quietly slipped from the hall, knowing I would see Paris again. You may mock me, but that time I had every intention of sending him away. It would not do for us to bed together during such a time. The danger was too great. He had given me something I would have never known otherwise. Troy had birthed a savior for a queen many knew of but none knew, and I would not endanger its safety any longer. It was the least I could do. I resolved to say no.

I sat down at my desk and began combing my hair, effectively undoing the fancy style Polydora had arranged for me. I heard the door open behind me and I locked eyes with Paris as he slipped in quietly, firmly locking the door behind him. I felt my face flush and I quickly turned away from him hoping to hide my wavering heart.

"You shouldn't be here," I said firmly in an echo of the night before. I brushed my hair furiously in order to hide my shaking hands.

"That's what you said last night," he said, confusion in his voice.

"Last night was a mistake," I announced, willing my heart to believe. But even as the words came, I smiled. _It was no mistake._

"And the night before that?" he asked, his voice taking on that teasing tone. _Oh, sweet Paris, you know exactly what you're doing to me._

I smiled again, knowing he could not see me. "I've made many mistakes this past week."

He was right behind me, I could feel him there, but I actually believed that if I avoided eye contact with him I could resist. After all, it was his deep brown eyes that captured my heart every single time. I thought I was immune to him. I was wrong.

His hand gently pulled my hair back, letting it fall down my back. I froze, knowing at that moment I was fighting a losing battle. His hand rested on my bare shoulder as his other came to gently caress my face. His actions held all the tenderness I had craved my whole life.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked softly. We both knew what the answer was.

I stood up and in a repeat of our first night together, unclasped my dress and let it fall to the floor. The look in his eyes was the same; it had not changed since that fateful night under the myrtle tree.

I stepped towards him and kissed him hard, relaxing as his arms wrapped themselves around me.

A drunken howl could be heard from below stairs but I did not pause. Some things just cannot be resisted.

**…**

"I have something for you," he said to me, climbing off the bed where I lounged easily. I sat up and waited expectantly.

"Pearls from the sea of Propontis." He held them up before me and I touched them lovingly.

"They're beautiful," I said, smiling. Then reality hit, as it always does. "But I can't wear them. Menelaus would kill us both."

"Don't be afraid of him," Paris urged me tenderly.

I smiled, my eyes filling up with tears. "I'm not afraid of dying. I'm afraid of tomorrow." I choked up and had to look down before I could continue. "Of watching you sail away and knowing you'll never come back." I looked at him with tears streaming down my face, my eyes mirroring the love that was in his own. "Before you came to Sparta, I was a ghost. I walked and I ate and I swam in the sea, but I was just a ghost." He tenderly stroked my face and I knew then he realized the deeper meaning behind those words.

"You don't have to fear tomorrow," he said simply. I looked at him, confused. "Come with me," he urged.

I stared at him for a moment quelling the sudden leap my heart had made when I'd heard his words. "Don't play with me." I looked down, breaking eye contact. "Don't play."

He spoke again, utter sincerity written on his face. "If you come, we'll never be safe," he admitted truthfully. "Men will hunt us, the gods will curse us." He looked into my eyes. "But I'll love you," he said forcefully. "Until the day they burn my body, I will _love_ you," he swore to me.

In my life, one mistake could cost dearly. I knew that. But I still allowed myself one moment of weakness to imagine what it would be like.

And so sealed my own fate.


	17. The Deed is Done

Paris left my chamber soon after with instructions for me to be ready by daybreak. I knew I should start packing but I couldn't. I just sat there, staring at the closed door, my mind attempting to talk my heart out of something it had yearned to do for years. I slowly stood up, my mind and heart conflicting. I learned the meaning of the word turmoil at that moment. I heard a drunken shout again and I made up my mind. But there was something I wanted to do before I left…

The guards had all deserted their posts or been reassigned. The walls were deserted just as I knew they would be. I took a deep breath and climbed the rest of the stairs, closing my eyes and letting the wind brush my apprehensions aside. The moon was dim tonight but it still managed to illuminate the vast expanse of the sea stretching out before me. The waves crashed on the rocks hundreds of feet below. My mind wandered, back to the last time I'd stood here.

_"Love the sea, Helen, for from it will come your salvation."_

"A prophetess or a goddess," I murmured, smiling at her words. "Well, Aphrodite, it is said you favor my love." I remained there for just a little while, enough to calm my nerves and deaden my fears. The gods would protect us, no doubt was left in my mind.

I was packed and ready to go when there was a knock on my door.

"Yes?" my voice betrayed no hint of the fear that had suddenly leaped up within me.

"My queen," Polydora called out. "Please open the doors."

To refuse her would have aroused suspicion. I threw my bags under my large bed and hurried over to unbolt the door. I now feared that Paris would come while she was still here.

She stepped in, her eyes tired and a mark on her neck that revealed her activities of the previous hours. She saw my eyes glance at it and self-consciously pulled at a strand of hair. "You leave with the Prince Paris," she said knowingly, looking at me. I did not even flinch.

"I could have you killed for even suggesting such a thing," I answered back coldly.

"Forgive my boldness, my queen," she said, not at all repentantly. "But I thought this would come in useful if you're to appear in Troy." She held out a key in the palm of her hand.

"What is it?" I asked warily, not taking it.

"The key to the treasury," she replied. "The king still sleeps in his chamber, the wine has soothed him to sleep. If we hurry I can help you and return it before he awakes."

I studied her, wondering if it was a trick. We'd grown so distant, and could one really trust the mistress of the king? She saw my hesitation and smiled sadly. "You and I are just two women trying to find happiness in any way we can. I stole your husband from you; I could never resent you this opportunity."

I pulled her close and kissed her cheek. "I never had him to begin with; you didn't steal him." I then took the key from her and set off cautiously down the hall, my sandaled feet making soft pats on the marble floor.

For such a vast amount of wealth, the Spartan vault was relatively unguarded. A sleeping guard sat near the entrance, but because the vault was so hard to find Menelaus had elected to keep it inconspicuous.

"Fill this bag with coins," I said, tossing a sac to her and turning to survey the items.

"We must be able to carry it silently back to your quarters," Polydora warned, seeing me fingering a few items.

"We'll take some of the jewelry, then," I said, grabbing a few gold headpieces, necklaces, and earrings. "I'll not come to Troy like a penniless servant girl."

"They'll know you're not a servant girl, Helen," Polydora said softly, pausing her work to look at me. "You are a queen."

I smiled back at her, a sad smile though not regretful. "I'm quite certain that I'm giving up my title," I murmured.

She shook her head. "Royalty does not depend on your marriage situation," she said confidently. "It lies deep within you, something you cannot discard even if you wanted to." She laid a hand over her heart as emphasis. "You'll always be a queen to anyone who knows you."

A noise outside made us jump. "Hurry," I said, stuffing a few more items into my sack. "Do you think this is enough?"

"You've more than compensated a bridal price," Polydora said, surveying the items I was taking. "Even Menelaus did not inherit so much when he married you."

"He received Sparta," I reminded her.

Our journey back to my chamber was uneventful and Polydora quickly set down her sack before leaving again. "It's best I return this key before he awakens."

"Make sure you're there when he wakes up," I warned her.

She nodded. "I will. And I won't say a word."

"I know you won't."

We stood there, not knowing the words to say. We had never loved each other nor had our circumstances allowed us to become friends. But it was she who in my hour of need stood by me as a friend.

"Thank you."

She nodded. "Be safe, Helen."

"And you also," I said, and we embraced. "We shall most likely never meet again."

"I pray to the gods we don't," she replied, and slipped from the room.

**…**

"I wish we'd left the jewels behind," Paris muttered, adjusting the heavy sac on his shoulder.

"I'll not come to your family as a penniless whore," I replied.

"No one would think that," he reassured me. "They'll know you as my wife."

"A wife with another husband," I sighed.

"Forgive me, but in the case of an unfaithful wife is the marriage not ended?" he asked innocently.

"It is," I answered. "Unless you happen to be Queen of Sparta and the supposed daughter of Zeus."

"Keep your head down," Paris warned.

"What did you tell Hector?" I asked him.

"I took care of it," was all he would say. We kept silent for the rest of the way.

It was only until we had left Sparta that he told me the truth.

"My brother does not know you're onboard," he said, gently tracing the outline of my jaw. I closed my eyes.

"He'll bring me back."

"I'll talk to him," Paris promised, gently kissing my brow before climbing up the ladder to the deck.

I waited fearfully as I heard him talk to his brother. Time seemed to crawl by and I could feel beads of sweat forming on my brow.

Hector followed Paris down the loft and I stood, gently pulling back my hood to reveal my face. I have never seen such a horrified look of shock as I did at that moment. The silence lasted for a few moments as his shock turned to anger, then he turned to Paris.

"If you weren't my brother I'd kill you where you stand," he growled, his voice deadly. And with that, he turned and went back up the ladder, knowing Paris would follow.

Paris turned to me first and gently cupped my face. "We're in this together," he said, and kissed me. He left to follow his brother and I sat back down.

There had been fear in his eyes, but there was nothing I could do. My fate was out of my hands.


	18. Understanding in the Moonlight

Out of shame I stayed in my quarters for the next week. I could not bear to face Hector, not after I'd seen the look on his face. And I truly was grateful that he hadn't returned me to Sparta, though I'd no idea why.

But as time went by I grew antsy with staying in my quarters. Still my stubbornness prevailed and I refused to burden Hector with my presence. Then late one night, a full seven days after we'd begun our journey, that I could bear it no longer.

Paris slept beside me on his stomach, his face turned away from me. His left arm draped over my stomach comfortably. I was reminded of the many times I'd been in this situation with Menelaus. It is amazing how two identical acts can carry such different emotions with them. I'd never been so comfortable in my life.

But I was in need of fresh air so I slipped out from under Paris' hold. He did not even stir. I crept up to the deck, noting the sleeping sailors piled on animal skins on either side of the ship. My bare feet made no sound and I was careful not to wake them. I went over to the front of the ship and leaned against the railing, gazing at the water bathed in silver light.

"You should not be up here without an escort," a voice said, making me jump. It was Hector. Suddenly I was very aware of my light nightgown being the only covering I had on.

I smiled nervously at him, a tentative smile. "To protect my reputation?" I asked, noting his impassionate face. I shrugged. "I have betrayed my husband. I've no reputation left to protect."

He did not deny it, as I knew he wouldn't. Instead, he merely gestured towards the sleeping sailors. "I make no promises for the men's decorum if they're to find you here."

I was not afraid of them. "They can do nothing to me that hasn't been done already," I whispered, memories of my recent life coming back to haunt me.

I sensed a change in Hector's attitude, though that had not been my goal. "Was your life so terrible?" he asked me, his voice more gentle.

Memory after memory attacked me and I closed my eyes against them. Finally the face of my daughter gazed up at me and I felt tears sliding down my cheeks. I only nodded, ashamed at my weakness.

I sensed his awkwardness and I tried to calm myself as he struggled to find something to say. "You'll be safe in Troy."

I thought of all the people of Troy, sleeping unawares as their doom sailed to them on a prince's ship. "But Troy won't be safe with me," I said quietly, my voice cracking. "You should do it."

"Do what?"

I took a deep breath. "Turn the ship around." I smiled sadly up at him. "I've often wondered why you didn't."

He shrugged. "My brother would be dead if I had."

"You could've restrained him from following me," I said, flippantly. Hector's physical power was obvious.

He did not answer for awhile, knowing I was right. "It would've killed him," he said at last.

I studied him for a time, though he stared straight ahead. "Is that the only reason?" I finally asked.

He did not answer and I began to accept his silence when he replied, "My wife." There was a long pause as though he did not plan to elaborate. But he did. "She told me about women like you."

I smiled mockingly. "Unfaithful women with no morals and no sense of loyalty?"

"We both know that doesn't describe you," Hector replied gently. "And no. She told me of women whose husbands are like yours. Women who are slaves in their own households. I couldn't forgive myself for sending you back to that."

I was surprised. "She described it in such wretched terms?"

He nodded.

I was now curious. "Had she ever lived it?"

He shook his head no. "I promised her I wouldn't."

I smiled gently. "But that still does not bind you to me in any way, shape, or form. I am not the one you made a promise to."

"It could have just as easily been her in that predicament," Hector said softly, his eyes holding a faraway look. It was as if he was watching her sleeping, thousands of miles away. My heart melted as I saw the look on his face at that moment. It was the look I had longed for, and the look I now had with Paris.

He remained like that until he noticed my gaze and then turned to me. "Let me know when you're finished here and I'll escort you back below."

In other words, he'd not allow me to treat myself with disrespect, though I myself would. I smiled. "I am ready now."

He led me below deck and stopped at the door to the chamber I shared with Paris. "The sea looks equally brilliant in the daytime, Helen. You should experience it."

I inclined my head in acceptance of his offer, inwardly smiling. But I did not reply, only slipped back through the door and quietly shut it behind me. I climbed into be with Paris and positioned his arm over me again. I felt him stir and I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. A gently hand touched my face and I felt a soft kiss on my cheek. I had to open my eyes or my smile would give me away. I looked into his eyes gazing in soft wonder at me and I smiled.

"What is it?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "Nothing," he lied. His expression gave him away; I knew exactly what he was thinking and it warmed me to the bone. _I am loved,_ I thought simply.

His words echoed my thoughts. "Sweet dreams, my love." I willingly accepted a tender kiss on my lips and closed my eyes as Paris once again resumed his regular sleeping position.

I fell asleep soon after.


End file.
